


The Art of Human Intimacy

by honorarytenenbaum



Category: New Zealand Actor RPF, New Zealand Comedy RPF, What We Do in the Shadows (2014)
Genre: F/M, I Do, Taika waititi - Freeform, did someone want that?, master and familiar relationships?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorarytenenbaum/pseuds/honorarytenenbaum
Summary: Answering an online ad for a familiar was supposed to be a joke. Three months, Desiree became a familiar to the soft-spoken Count Viago. One night, she discovered, it wasn't a familiar he wants.
Relationships: Viago (What We Do in the Shadows)/Female Original Character, Viago (What We Do in the Shadows)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm moving past RPFs to do this. Let's hope she's worth it.

Staring at your master’s portrait isn’t an ideal way to start Monday evenings. 

But as I stood there, acting like a faux art critic in “Velvet Buzzsaw,” I felt like my actions were appropriate. Three months have passed since I agreed to be Count Viago’s familiar. Of course, answering odd jobs in internet forums was frowned upon.

My current life as an exchange student in Wellington wasn’t going anywhere. So fuck it, why not explore what the “afterlife” has to offer?

The ad became an inside joke to my friends. When I decided to answer the ad for real, the group chat stopped laughing with me. It’s a stupid decision for an apathetic young woman to have in a world where women are pillage in every century. 

That alone should be an indication of my real IQ points. Every day, I wondered, if my report cards were an inside joke I never seem to get. 

Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg (né von Blitzenberg). The gold plaque below his portrait read. When he told me his full name, I thought of the ad more of as a joke. 

To which he responded with brows furrowed, “Wh-why would I joke about my own name? It’s my mother’s birthright to me.”

He looked deeply wounded, offended even. We sat on the park bench around 11:11. I was certain that it was 11:11 since he told me to make a wish before he introduced himself. 

“What did you wish for?” he asked me with a toothy grin. He made his sunny disposition blatantly clear that night, among other things. It was clear he had an unusual taste for fashion, an inexplicable neediness to please everyone around him, and a grin that was compensating for the darkness underneath it. 

So he proceeded to ask, an inconspicuous man who believed himself to be immortal, what did I wish for that night? “To not end up killed or raped” was my sane response. 

His toothy grin slowly clammed up. Clearing his throat, I noticed he began to stiffen, trying tiptoe around my cold demeanor. “As long as you’re my familiar,” his tone softened as he reached for my shoulder, “no one will ever hurt you again.”

Right before me, his complex brown eyes flashed crimson. I felt my heart rose on my throat. But no fear entered my body. 

Just silent acceptance of my fate. As if, this was where the road was taking me all along. 

Dignified. It was the first word that came to me. The second word that came to mind was handsome. It’s his kind, complex brown eyes, unthreatening stature, and a warm smile that can attract any right-minded human. 

Him being dignified, however, was harder to defend. Staring at this portrait for so long, I almost believed that he was dignified. He was in his own way. But none of his undead flatmates believed that. 

Count Viago, for the lack of a better term, was the only brain cell in this household. He was the only one who knew about the word tidy or making the flat at least liveable. Vladislav and Deacon couldn’t give two shits. 

Nick barely goes in here. The last time he saw the mess, he scoffed and said “nope,” and literally flew off to the night. 

I would too if he thought of turning me. Recently, I’ve been finding that quite impossible. One of the early onset signs were simple to figure out. 

“Master, it’s fine. I can do—“ 

“Who told you to do this? Vladislav? Deacon?!”

I was wearing pink latex gloves and an apron. If I wasn’t demeaned enough, my master was scolding me for doing my actual job. This was exactly how I wanted to spend the prequel of my afterlife. 

“No one,” I threw my soapy hands in defense. “It’s your turn in the chore wheel. I thought I could, you know…” I tilted my head as I struggled to get the word out. He arched his brow while folding his arms across his chest. 

Not wanting his impatience to grow, I just spat it out. “I wanted to serve you.” 

His expression began to soften. As he always does, he reached it to me and grabbed my hands, cupping them on his cold face. “Fräulein, staying by my side is serving me.”

I rolled my eyes overhearing my nickname. Under the right circumstances, I would find it endearing. All I hear every time he calls me “fräulein” was a 379-year-old undead dandy infantilizing his familiar. 

Sighing in defeat, I gave him my gloves and did what I was told. That was my purpose after all. 

I walked off to let my master do his own errands. Standing in the doorway observing us was Vladislav. Our glances met one another until I was out of his periphery. 

In an earshot, I heard them talk about me. “You coddle your human pet too much,” scolded Vladislav. I slowed down my pace as I continued eavesdropped. “I just want her to be comfortable. I don’t want to spook her.”

I felt my eyes roll underneath the darkness of the hallway. Spooked? In this house? We’re way pass that, dear master. Comfortable, my ass. He was just a micromanaging neat freak. 

And what am I? His dutiful yet useless human trophy. 

Three months in as his familiar got me nowhere. I learned more about vampires than I care to know about. That’s okay. But getting scolded, every fucking day, for doing what he asked of me when we met? Bullshit.

Every day, I felt more like an oddity in this house and less of a familiar. Vladislav calling me a human pet was appropriate. That’s exactly what I was. 

“Ah fräulein, that dress will suit you well,” Viago responded once when he observed me admiring a thrifted dress during one of their haunts. “Should I purchase it for you?” he asked with his overbearing toothy grin. I told him I couldn’t possibly ask him to do that. 

But he went ahead and bought it the following night. I kept telling him that he didn’t need to buy or do anything for me. Still, he chose to ignore what I say and catered to my whims anyway. Clothes, cravings—anything I expressed interest in, he bought it without hesitation. 

The sight of his dignified portrait made me huff. An unpainted Count Viago was far from dignified. He was a man with so much power. And yet, you can pour soup on his lap and he’d apologize to you. 

He had no backbone and no real opinions on things. He was afraid of who he had become. Afraid of his darkness seeping out of the seems. There’s no dignity in the 379-year-old walking carcass—only fear. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a reminder on my phone. When the clock stroke 9:00 p.m., it was time to do the only duty I’m allowed to perform: be there by my master’s side when he awakens.

I went up to the creaky staircase in a hurry. Unfortunately, I found myself getting excited to perform a task or any task at this point. I picked up the pace and marched onto his room. 

“Master?” I softly knocked on his door. “Count Viago?” I called him his full title. I stood there for five minutes, awaiting his soft beckons. But the only thing that greeted me was a deafening silence. 

Growing impatient, I decided to do something I might regret later on. I turned the knob and gently pushed his door open. My brain already prepared my heart for whatever I was about to see: dead bodies, impromptu orgy (shoutout to Vladislav during that one time), or other supernatural horrors incomprehensible to the human eye. 

I saw none of those. However, what I saw and heard was just as sinful.

There was no blood in his system. Still, it didn’t stop his cock from flexing its girth and length. He was naked from the bottom down. With widened eyes, I watched him jerk off with vigor as he lost himself in ecstasy. 

A string of incoherent swears in German escaped his cushiony lips. His precum served as his own lube, while he kept stroking his cock, giving in to his inner whims. I wanted to close the door silently and walk away. 

But fuck, who would want to walk away from this? It was hot, erotic even. 

I rubbed my thighs together, trying to control myself from touching my suddenly aching cunt. He kept pleasuring himself unaware of my presence. I never saw him as a man of desire. Seeing him unhinged like this changed my perspective for good. 

It was getting hot and heavy. At this point, hearing his grunts and moans made it impossible for me to touch myself. I almost gave in to feeling myself as I watched my master writhe in pleasure. 

As I reached for my aching cunt, he called out to me. “Fräulein.” 

My eyes widened from what I just heard. I felt my whole body freeze at the sound of my nickname. While standing there, I waited for him to turn and acknowledge my presence. 

He didn’t turn to confront me. Instead, he revealed what his freehand concealed on his sides: black laced underwear. My black laced underwear. 

I watched him bite his lower lip as he wrapped it around his throbbing cock. “Please your master, dear familiar,” he whined. “Let master take care of you. Master can make you cum.” 

If I wasn’t wet earlier, I was certainly wet now. I felt the heat pool underneath my pleated skirt. Biting down my lips to suppress any moans, I began to draw circles on my clit with my index finger. 

I want to hear more of him. I want to hear him moan for me, see him cum for me. 

“I’ll spoil you rotten, my dear. Make my face your throne and I’ll drink every drop of your juices,” he hissed as his pace quickened. “My cunt, my familiar, all mine. All perfect. So, so perfect. So—“ Out of nowhere, a moan broke out of me. 

His head whipped to my direction once he heard it. There wasn’t any bliss nor kindness in his eyes. With one glare, he pushed me out to the hallway with a wave of his hand and locked me out of his room. 

We stood on the opposites sides of the same door. Still, one thought echoed out from the both of us. 

_ Desire.  _ Pure unadulterated desire. 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paradise lies in between her legs and her absence is my eternal limbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to get this out. Still, I hope everyone's liking where this is going so far.

Fear and desire intermingled inside of me. 

That’s always been the case with Desiree. Of course, three months aren’t enough to learn everything about anyone. But when she’s near, that’s all I felt, fear and desire. 

An immortal such as myself shouldn’t be afraid of a human. If anything, it’s always been the other way around. So why do the complexities of the heart plague me when she’s near?

I stared at the door in front of me. This body of mine pumps no blood. My heart had been on a standstill for centuries now. However, if a miracle comes along to make it work again, it’ll burst my rib cage open. 

Swallowing the lump on my throat, I took a deep breath. I have made things complicated between us. The bond between a familiar and their master is sacred. Certain boundaries shouldn’t be crossed. 

These rules were simple enough to follow. After all, I love rules. Rules set expectations and a guide on how to live life. But that’s not the case if someone like Desiree is your familiar. 

I can thank Vladislav and Stu for that mistake. 

“You should get a new familiar.”

Vladislav confronted me one night. As always, I have picked up after my fellow undead peers. No one exactly cared much about the state of this household. So of course, I have to carry that burden all by my lonesome.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” I lied through my sharpened teeth. Alive or undead, washing the dishes will always invite unnecessary existential burden. Doing house chores helped my mind go blank. Not the case with dishes.

I placed a plate on the clean pile. Picking up a dirty one, I washed it in silence, hoping the mountain of clean dishes wouldn’t collapse. I silently wondered if I could just throw away these dirty dishes and buy new ones instead. 

Gold still amounts to something in The New World. I bet Stu can help me deal with my finances. 

My companion let out an exasperated sigh. Coming closer to the sink, he leaned on the counter. “You should be living your undead life! You are a vampire, for fuck’s sakes,” he slapped my shoulder and grabbed it tightly. 

“Don’t you want to know what else is out there?”

Protesting Vladislav’s request got me nowhere. After wearing me down, I reluctantly said yes to his offer. He roped in Stu and helped us set up an advertisement on the internet for a familiar. 

Since Phillip, unfortunately, passed away, getting another familiar wasn’t in my to-do list. Nothing has been on my to-do list except taking care of the house and the others. My afterlife was for serving others and not myself.

I have never been a selfish man. However, there are nights where I lie awake in my coffin, wishing that I was. 

This immortal life, a life I’ve been damned with, no longer excites me. My only hope is a vampire hunter finally stabs me in the heart. Or if I run outside our home during sunrise. 

My companions relied on me for my sunny disposition. How do I tell them that the light inside my body has gone out?

“Desiree.”

I repeated her name. The first syllable starts with your tongue hiding between your front teeth, followed by a hiss spat out from your mouth. It ends with your tongue curling and its tip hitting your mouth’s roof. 

Her name is of French origin. Translated to its lingua franca, it meant desired. I didn’t give her a shy, deceitful smile like all my previous female victims or possible familiars. A woman with her stature didn’t deserve that. 

Though her name was French, she flew in from a third world nation. She might be robbed of her privileges and culture. And yet, her privilege is her radiance; golden brown skin, almond-shaped eyes, and plump yet faded rosy lips hidden behind blood red lipsticks. 

“Yup, that’s me,” she pressed her lips together, biting its insides. I smiled at her candor. Reluctantly giving into an old habit, I grabbed my pocket watch from the waistcoat. The time read 11:11.

“Oh, it’s time to make a wish!” I exclaimed as I showed her my watch. I became so exuberated that I’ve failed to introduce myself. A part of me felt slight guilt over my informality, but I silently hoped she would be understanding. 

“What do you wish for?”  
“To not end up killed or raped.”

My smile faded into a frown. Her candor was admirable, but it was also cold and unforgiving. Thoughts in my mind ran amuck trying to decipher what made her this way and where her inner fortitude stemmed from.

Instead of asking her these questions, I made a vow. “As long as you’re my familiar,” I reached for her shoulder, “no one will ever hurt you again.”

“You coddle your human pet too much.”

Vladislav’s words made my eyes roll. Human pet? I almost lost my control when he said that. To call my familiar a pet. An insult to the highest degree. 

Desiree was far from the word pet. Her divinity transcends her mortal state. When my gaze wanders upon hers, I don’t see flesh and bones. She stares back at me and I’m in a presence of a demigod. 

Untouchable and to be feared. Her beauty contradicts with her frigidity. When she stares at me, I freeze. Only her rarest of smiles can resurrect me from such a state. 

The more I spent time with her, the more I understood poetry from jilted lovers. She is worthy of unending praises and Earthly spoils. To order her around is to mock her maker. 

Selfish is a word nobody would ever associate me with. For the first time in a hundred years, somebody gave me a reason to be. 

I’m sick and tired of being misunderstood. Wasn’t this what they wanted in the first place? For me to explore what was out there? For me to think of me?

My methods might be unorthodox. To their eyes, it might seem she was the master and I was the familiar. Why do they care so much about traditions now? We’re vampires—that’s as unorthodox as life would get. 

With this thought plaguing my brain again, I decided to calm myself down. I rose from my coffin without my familiar by my side. Once the dim, incandescent light flooded my senses, a deep breath followed before I started relieving myself. 

Every stroke and muffled moans I had were praises for her. No, it was no longer Katherine that I longed for. It was her—my familiar, my Desiree. 

“Fräulein,” I moaned her moniker while clutching on the underwear I stole from her quarters. She plagues my thoughts, rules them even. I longed for her angelic face covering a beast within, supple heaving breasts concealing her heart, and plump luscious lips filled with untold secrets.

Indecent wishful thinking washed over me. When the word ‘master’ escapes her lips, my cock twitches, and I ache for her. My mind explores these indecencies late at night. This month, these rambunctious thoughts had not stopped. 

She fills me with so much wanton. Every night, I thought about filling up her perfect cunt, entertaining anything she desired, unleashing the beast inside of her with my throbbing cock. All my selfish inclinations lead to pleasing her. 

“Make my face your throne and I’ll drink every drop of your juices.” My strokes becoming more erratic. I become more unhinged, frustrated, and unsatisfied with my own grasp. “My cunt, my familiar, all mine. All perfect. So, so perfect. So—“

A moan that wasn’t mine echoed back. Wanting to confirm my irrational fear, I turned to the sound.  _ Her _ . 

Shame flooded my system almost immediately. Without thinking, I waved my hand, exuding an unseen force to get her out of my chambers. I was so fear-stricken that I never got to finish. 

None of what I was doing mattered at that moment. She saw me do something incredibly taboo, something so improper. I am her master yet I’m the one who felt shame. 

Once I got a hold of myself, I picked up my trousers and wiped my hands with an embroidered handkerchief. Deep breathing and composure guided me to my bedroom door. But when I opened it to begin to explain myself, Desiree pushes me back in by crashing her lips onto mine. 

The door closed behind us as she kept pushing. Letting my lust take agency, I pushed her on a nearby wall. My hands started running through her thick, dark brown hair that eventually cupped her supple breasts. 

I wanted to restrain myself, to restrain her too. But my selfishness was too strong to ignore.

Parting our lips to give ourselves air, I stared at her in awe. Awe didn’t fill her almond eyes. It was lust and sheer wickedness. Same lust and wickedness that urged her to get down on her knees before me. 

I bit my lip as I watched her pull my trousers down. Softly gasping as my hardened cock sprung free, she gazed up at me. I can’t help but feel infatuated by the sight of her subjugation. 

“Master,” she softly called me. I felt all oxygen escape my body when sudden kindness replaced her usual frigidity. Mustering up the courage, I asked her to speak her mind. 

“I want to serve you.” 

She parted her lips, so she can take me in. I held my breath as I watched her head bob up and down. The precum from my tip dripped on her tastebuds. Closing my eyes, I arched my neck and let her do what she wanted—serve me. 

Past paramours can never compare. Even Katherine can’t hold a candle to her.

I let my selfishness take over. Biting my lip to restrain my curses and moans, I tangled my fingers in her hair and balled it up with my fist. I shoved my cock inside her mouth until I felt her uvula. 

I was so desperate to see her expression. The light in her eyes flickering, interchanged with bliss, and fear every time she blinks. Hearing her give in to my carnal wishes made me smirk. 

“You want to serve your master?” I slowly pulled myself out. Keeping her gaze on me, she nodded. “Very well, then.”

She parted her lips once again to try and taste me. As much I would’ve like to get blown by her, I stopped her with one pull of her hair. My forcefulness made her gasp yet she gave me a smile at the end. 

Loosening my grip on her locks, I kneeled to her level. “If you want to serve me,” I kissed her lips softly. “Then let me take care of you. My face is your throne, fräulein.”

That night, I learned two important details: Paradise lies in between her legs and her absence is my eternal limbo.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But fräulein, I have nothing. I have nobody.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while, but here you go. I hope it's worth reading.

Beautiful is not the first word I will associate with me.

My name is alluded to being desired. And yet, nobody wants me; not by my motherland, not by my second university course, and especially not by myself. This self-hatred should’ve sparked the neediness to be wanted. But that’s just it.

If no one wanted me, then fine. I don’t want them too. 

Sleeping with Viago changed that. As I sit on his face, legs parted and convulsed, before a being beyond scientific comprehension, I began to understand what my name meant. He licked my pussy and fucked it vigorously with his tongue. Every drop I muster he drank, leaving him parched and wanting for more. 

“M-master,” I moaned. For the first time, I said his title not out of necessity, but out of submission. His tongue took its sweet time to slither from my hole to circling the hood of clit. Clockwise, counter-clockwise, wherever which way led closer to my unbecoming.

“Before the sun rises, I want your worries gone, your restless mind refreshed, your body filled with me.”

My master whispered in my ear. I wouldn’t expect the sweetest words ever said to me uttered while I pinned against the wall, filled with his girth and spurting out cum after cum after cum. But we can barely plan circumstances beyond our control.

One night stands where meant to satiate a need. That goes the same for me when it came to sex in general. There was fucking, but no affection. Lust but barely any care for one another. Animalistic at best. 

“Oh, you’re perfection, fräulein. Pure perfection,” he hissed in my ear before leaving butterfly kisses, stemming from earlobe to the nape of my neck. My breath hitched for two reasons: unadulterated affection and fear for my life. 

The euphoria of his touch conflicted with my fear of who he was. Caught in the sheer bliss and warmth of another’s touch, I forgot what our primal union meant. The gift of immortality or the tragedy of sudden death.

But my fear was betrayed by the way he held onto me. With my thighs secured around his waist, I bounced up and down his fat cock. I was bounded exactly where he fantasized me to be. Yet, his desire didn’t reign supreme. 

His satisfaction can only be reached if I was satiated too.

It was animalistic as it was tender. His tight grip on my thighs matched my nails dug behind his bareback. None of us minded the marks we made on each other’s skin. We’re too invested in how it felt to be inside one another, we didn’t mind the hurt that came with it. 

“Do I feel good? Should I go faster?” he dotted on me, even when I was getting fucked with vigor. Some habits are constant, I suppose. “Yes yes please, fuck my pussy. Please use me. Use me,” I cried as his cock filled my cunt. 

He hungrily kissed my lips while he picked up the pace. With his thumb he circled my clit, pumping in and out inside of me as hard and as fast as he could. He did everything my body yearned for under one condition. 

With one hard thrust, he commanded. “Keep your eyes on mine, fräulein. I want you to see what I can do for you.”

Pulling out of me slowly, he decided to change his speed. His thrusts were hard yet painfully slow. Teasing me, making my pussy cry out for him. His eyes bearing multitude shades of earth were smug and filled with lust. 

“Will you cum for me?”  
“Mast—“  
“Answer me.”

I ran my fingers into his hair, gripping on to it to have some illusion of control. The demand in his voice left me shaking. Not out of fear, but delight. There was something so enticing about sudden strength that I can’t shake. 

Viago, who I thought to be so spineless, was not weak at all. 

“Make me cum, master. I’d do anything. Fuck!” I rambled a string of swears and incoherent mumblings. Upon my confirmation, he unraveled me. My loins began to tighten in minutes. He knew this yet it only fuelled him to ram me faster. 

As my juices began to spill on my thighs, the look he had on me will now be forever etched in my memory. His dilated pupils read awe and pride. 

Our skins continued to slap against one another. At that moment, its impact echoed less, only to be replaced by heavy panting. My flushed cheeks were reflected on his yearning irises. 

With a soft smile, he asked. “Do you want me to cum inside?” 

Puzzlement overcame my dwindling stamina. As if he read my mind, he reassures me. “My seed cannot impregnate you. You’re safe.”

I placed my trust on my master and nodded. Thankful for my consent, he cupped my face with one free hand, locking his lips onto mine. It only took him mere seconds to fill me up with his hot white cum. 

He parted from my lips to let me breathe. With smiles on our faces, he brushed the tip of his nose onto mine. These little actions of affection led me to believe fucking me tonight was more than just to scratch a hundred-year-old itch.

“Why did you want to be my familiar?”  
“Why did you fuck the daylights out of me?"  
  
The questions we bounced back onto one another tell so much about who we were. And yet, it all boiled down to some form of insecurity. Maybe that’s the common thread we shared and refused to see. 

We lied down on the floorboards, writhing in pleasure. He didn’t even attempt to secure his frilly blouse. It just hung on his shoulders, waiting to be fastened. As for me, I was just thankful to be fucked with my clothes on.

I’d miss my pink seamless underwear though. He better buy me a couple of new pairs after this. 

My crassness made him smile. Although it made him uncomfortable in the first few months, he had grown accustomed to it. It’s not tolerance—it’s fondness. 

“I guess my seniority would come in handy now,” he meekly suggested. “It’s probably for the best if you answer first.” Our eyes never left the ancient chandelier hanging above our heads. Although when he pressed on, I felt his gaze landing on my face. 

“I want to be a vampire,” I answered plainly. What else is there? Of course, I want immortality and to be remembered and forgotten all the same. I have this aching desire to have agency over my life. I want to be untethered from responsibility and this mortal coil. 

I want to stop worrying about a 9 to five life. I want to stop worrying about where the theatre will or will not take me. I want to stop worrying about debts and the trivial pursuit of trying to understand taxes. In hindsight, “I want what you have.”

My answer was greeted with dry laughter. Meeting his gaze, I stared at the usually jubilant undead dandy. “But fräulein, I have nothing.” 

“I have nobody.”

Viago’s rebuttal echoed in my mind for the rest of twilight. Until the clock stroke five, my master never left his chambers and he was left undisturbed by his undead flatmates. We didn’t talk much, but he held onto me as if he was clinging for dear life.

And I let him. No matter how much I despised physical affection, I let him find rest within me.

“Master?” He lifted his resting head from my torso and looked up at me with soft eyes. “It’s almost sunrise,” I pulled him back to reality. He frowned almost immediately but accepted it with a nod anyways.

He slowly got up from where he was lying down. With his free hand, he offered it and lifted my weight up. He held onto my hand for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

I was unsure where to go from here. Usually, one night stands consisted of me doing a walk of shame and never looking back. But I would see him every day, leading up to my eventual mortality. 

Brushing his thumb on the back of my palm, he grimaced. “Fräulein, I want you to serve me like this.” I stood there unmoving from his instructions. “Every night, you come to me and you serve me just like this.” 

He pulled me closer to his chest. As my stare bore onto him, he admired my face while tucking a stray hair strand behind my ear. “In exchange, I’d give you anything you desire. Anything.” 

“Viago—“  
“—they’d never know.”

I’m all for doing this every night if he wants. But does this violate any creed between master and familiar? Or is it part of the deal? I knew I’m just a glorified servant. And I’m pretty sure that’s how Vladislav and Deacon see me anyways.

“This is between us.” 

I left his room accepting his offer. Between living life with my desires fulfilled and getting drained by a handsome immortal dandy, I was smart enough to choose the latter. Curiosity also played a huge part in my acceptance.

The sun was about to rise in an hour. Performing my duties as a familiar, I made sure no sunlight entered the house. Everybody seemed to have settled peacefully in their quarters. I was left alone with creaking floorboards and my own thoughts. 

As I cleaned around the ancient household, I came across Viago’s portrait once again. It’s as if his eyes were following my every move. Waiting for me. Watching over me. 

I stopped what I was doing and stared back. Whatever assumptions I formed when I met him three months ago, all of it was challenged by this one night. There are so many aspects of him I didn’t know, so many stories left untold, so many murmurs of the heart left unsaid. 

Looking back, my intuition never failed me. Can I really have been so mistaken? 


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sound of my name had never been lovelier. I want to hear her say it forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not a Tumblr favorite, but I don’t give a fuck.

Vampires' hearts are cold and dead. Definitely dead. 

But when I look at Desiree, I don't know. I think I still feel things inside it. Very much so that I felt things just by being near her. Not like boners or anything obscene, I just felt warmth.

And warmth isn’t something I’ve felt for 344 years. 

“No Deacon, you have to do a dip to make it sexy,” Desiree groaned at my flatmate’s incompetence. Her hands were on her hips, unknowingly doing favors for her curves. It was as if her fitted monochrome sports bra and leggings weren’t enough.

Sweat glistened from her for head down to her chin. Working hard never made her looked haggard, it only made her more divine.

When Deacon discovered she studies theatre and dance, he somehow coerced her to teach him new moves for his erotic dancing. She was reluctant at first as she always was. However, I’d like to think she found the exercise somehow enjoyable. 

“This is too hard! My really cool leather pants might rip or some shit,” Deacon huffed and pouted with his arms folded. She rubbed her temples to ease her annoyance over his stubbornness. “Alright, alright. Do you want us to do it from the top?”

“Fine, but make it slow AND count for me.”  
“Ugh, fine fine! You’re such a baby.” 

“Stu, music,” Deacon commanded Stu with a wave of his hand and he followed without a single peep. As I dusted our mantle, the two of them danced to jazz manouche. They did their steps, shook their hips, and conducted various floor dips. 

Two people were dancing, yet all my attention was on her. 

A wistful sigh escaped my lips as I watched her perform. She brought such grace and eroticism when she moves. In silence, I hoped it was me who danced with her, not my long-time confidante. 

Jealousy is for schoolboys. And I am definitely not one.

Usually, I’d be more focused on my chores. I was fond of doing them and it cleared my mind of thoughts I didn’t want to entertain. But the movements of her hips got me entranced. 

Focus was definitely out of the window. So as I kept watching her, little did I know that my feather duster almost knocked a thousand-year-old vase to its demise. Good thing Vladislav descended from vacuuming the stairs to catch it.

“What the hell?” he asked me in a monotonous tone. I grabbed the vase from him and placed it back where it belonged. “Sorry, sorry. I was just—“ 

“Oogling at your human pet?” He cocked his brow. I took a long sigh, quelling my annoyance. I gave him a good glare before going back to my chore. “Vladislav, don’t call her that. Please.” 

I felt his stare bore at me, observing my tense body language. Vladislav opened his mouth to speak his mind. But before he can do so, his common sense got the better of him, and left me alone. 

“Just be careful.” 

He floated to the staircase and went back to vacuuming. There was silence between the two of us, except for the rowdy bunch dancing in the living room. Laughter filled the air but none of it came from Vlad and me. 

As I dusted the cobwebs away, I had a strange feeling he wasn’t talking about my clumsiness. 

“This will look good on Desiree, yah?” 

Contrary to popular belief, I did have hobbies outside of cleaning the house and keeping everyone in line. There’s pottery, karate, collecting small shovels, and Pinterest. Vladislav had dark biddings on the internet, while I had my own fun with virtual “mood boards” as they call them nowadays.

My internet skills had improved thanks to Stu. Often, I would ask him to keep me company in my study and tutor me. I’ve gotten so used to his presence that I’ve asked him to just stay with me when I surf the internet. 

“Hmm,” he stood behind me and leaned over my laptop. My board was filled with 19th-century chokers and lace dresses. Proud of my selection, I bit my bottom lip and imagined her donning this by my side. 

What bliss it would be to walk by her side wearing the creme de la creme of haute couture! What thrill it’ll give me to rip these layers of clothing and claim her for the night! 

Stu tilted his head and scrutinized my selection. “Isn’t this a little bit… too old fashioned for her?” he mumbled. “Or is this what familiars wear or something?” He folded his arms and pondered. 

“No, not really,” I shrugged, refusing to look up at him. “But she would look amazing in them, ’no? I plan to give them as gifts,” I beamed from ear to ear. Once again, an involuntary wistful sigh escaped my lips just by the mere thought of her.

Stu shook his head at the sight of my smitten self. As he was about to leave, he rested his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle pat. It could either mean “good luck” or “get a grip.” 

While I dived in to my virtual scrapbooking, I silently wished it was the former. 

Time escaped me. It was 3 a.m. and I had not gotten out of my study since midnight. I cursed under my breath as I dashed from my study to my quarters. Hopefully, I wasn’t too late for our little rendezvous. 

My nerves got the best of me when I held onto the doorknob of my room. If my heart still had a beat, it would be trying to escape my ribcage. I gulped and took a deep breath as I slowly opened the door. 

Desiree did what she was told. Her back was turned away from the door, observing the various trinkets in my room. She had changed from her tights to a loose-fitting black shirt. 

No matter how she presented herself, my attraction to her didn’t waver one bit. 

I slowly approached her to not spook her. But as always, she was two steps ahead of me. “You missed Deacon’s erotic dance thing earlier,” Desiree spoke up without turning to greet me. “He was really proud of that dip I taught him.” 

I smiled at the imagery of her dancing from earlier. Honestly, I didn’t care much for Deacon’s success. I was more elated about the bond she established with some of my flatmates. 

“Can’t believe you let us sit through that alone. I mean, Vladislav and I were clinging on for dear life—“ Once she turned, I pulled her closer and crashed my lips onto hers. There’s a gnawing hunger inside of me and it’s not bloodlust. 

It’s the desire for her touch, the desire of her taste hitting my tastebuds. 

She didn’t fight back or pushed me away. When my intentions dawned on her, she laced her arms around my neck, securing herself onto me. Primal instinct took over when I pressed her back on the wall. 

Our tongues danced behind lips interlocked. My hands yearned for the sensation of her skin on mine. It brushed upon anything it can touch, the intricacies of her midnight black hair, the soft, pillowy sensation of her breasts, and the satisfying grooves of her hips. 

I never wanted someone this much. Or at least, I can no longer recall when I wanted to be with someone just like this.

Desire left my body when I lost my chance with Katherine. Love never crossed my mind for two and a half centuries now. And as much as I can, I tried not to entertain the thought. It just disappoints me more than it should have. 

But then she came into my life and all of these emotions I thought I’ve forgotten came back in waves. I parted my wanton lips from hers. A smile formed on her face right after. 

“How may I serve you tonight, master?” She murmured while tracing my swollen lips with her thumb. Absentmindedly, I sucked onto it with my stare boring onto hers. I parted my lips and left it dripping with drool. 

I merely smiled at her and said, “Turn and press your hands on the walls, fräulein. Let’s make you feel good.”

My last proclamation might be a lie. Still, it didn’t waver far from the truth. I did want her to feel good. I want her cunt filled to the brim with my fat cock. I wanted her aching and soaking for me. 

I want her muffled moans reaching my ears with every thrust. Her fists pounding on the walls for mercy, neck arching to rest it on the crook of my shoulder. And her grabbing a fistful of my hair while I make her needy cunt cum all over me. 

I did want her to feel good during these unholy hours. But I want her to feel good because of me, only me. 

“Do you like my fat cock inside of you, familiar? Do you like how I use your needy cunt? How I pump inside your needy cunt?” My hips kept a steady rhythm as I pulled in and out inside of her tight hole. Her moans became raspier and raspier as time passed. She can only looked at me with pleading eyes, desperate for immediate release. 

I grabbed her by the breasts and pressed her back on my chest. My thrusts became harder, less merciful. I flicked and teased her nipples until they hardened. 

She called out for me, begging to let her cum. I pulled her closer and whispered a binding contract in her ear. “You cum when I say so. I fuck you when I say so. You’re my familiar. My fräulein. Mine to fuck. Mine to pleasure. Mine forever.”

Soon as these words left my lips, the two of us came in unison. 

We ended our unholy trite with me on my knees. While she was heaving with her hands and forehead pressed on the wall, I observed my seed intermingled with her translucent cum. I played with it like a child and pushed my dripping seed inside her cunt. 

Her moans were music to my ears. Placing one finger then another, I pushed it in and out of her until her utmost bliss was all I could hear. I licked her clit over and over while doing so. I didn’t stop until she flooded my mouth with her juices. 

She was my favorite instrument, my favorite strange fruit. 

“Master, the sun will come up in a couple of hours,” she murmured sleepily. Desiree’s head rested on my lap. The two of us sat on the wooden floor to much of our dismay. Perhaps, I should invest in a futon of some sort to make her comfortable. 

“Fräulein?” I called her attention. She looked up at me with droopy eyes, waiting for my instructions. “Would you stay with me for a while? Just until the sun comes up?”

She smiled and nodded, “Anything you want, Master.” 

“Viago,” I corrected her causing her to quirk a brow. “Please, just call me by my name.” Her features soften, eventually, she cracked a smile. 

“Alright then,” she paused. “Viago.” 

The sound of my name had never been lovelier. I want to hear her say it forever.


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, but a lot of unearthed emotions and realizations.

Viago’s nature betrays him. 

This was the lasting impression he left on me. It’s only been a few months, but I had him figured out within the creases of my mind. He had a primal nature all vampires possessed. And yet, he rejects it completely unlike all vampires. 

How does one reject the nature of their being? In my master’s case, it’s by clinging onto the little aspects of his humanity. His sensitivity and innate kindness play a big role in this. In a smaller sense, he clings to sentimentality; nature and artistry to name a few. 

Out of the four vampires in their de facto coven, he stood out the most. He was their rationality. The mediator since no one had the decency to do so. Vladislav might be the oldest in the bunch, but Viago was their rock when all else fails. 

So what lengths would they go through to protect their rock? Well, I was about to find out for myself. 

“Flat meeting. Now.” 

Vladislav told me in haste when crossed paths in the hallway. I was just about to wake up my master. In all sheer honesty, it was a sight to see Vlad wake up before Viago. This only piqued my curiosity more so. 

He didn’t give me a second glance when he blurted instructions. I was a wind in passing, too irrelevant to be acknowledged. He, however, was not. I assumed he wanted me to pass the message to my master. 

Stopping in my tracks, I turned my heel to face him. “Should I alert Viago?” I asked. My irrelevance was now a false assumption. He halted and turned his head to address me properly. 

“No. Just you.” He motioned his head, signaling me to come with him to the house’s study. And I obeyed without reluctance nor disdain. All that echoed inside me was a ringing question: Why me?

The study was filled with books centuries and weeks old. Bookcases adorned the walls, as well as the portraits of Vladislav, Deacon, Nick, and my master. Inside were Deacon in his bad boy demeanor, Nick in his usual angsty state, and Vladislav in his position of power. Vlad’s seniority among all of us quietly radiates. I sat in the middle of the room before the coven minus their integral member.

Vladislav does not remind any of us how old he is. He did not remind us of his capabilities, the horrors he has seen, or have created for centuries. Why does he have to? It radiates and needed no explanation. 

The primal instinct in me wanted to run. No matter how comfortable I’ve gotten living with the powerful undead, they still remained who they were—vampires. Vampires that can drain or kill me at will. Anytime, anywhere, any reason, they can want me gone for good if they desire. 

Still, I stayed put from where I sat. Waiting for someone, anyone, to say something. 

“Desiree de Paradis, familiar of Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg né von Blitzenberg, you are hereby the request of the vampire council,” Vladislav pointed out the already obvious for everyone. “Under… under…” I began to trail off, perplexed with what they want from me. “I’m sorry, why am I here?”

“We are concerned with your relations with our Viago,” he began to explain. Still at a loss, I furrowed my brows and tried to understand where they were coming from. I studied the faces of each of them. Deacon had a sudden agitation, Nick was exasperated by all the pretension, and as for Vladislav, the usually stoic vampire was rather troubled.

“It has come to our attention that—“   
“Cut the bullshit, we know you’ve been fucking!”

“Deacon—“ Vladislav pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated by his flatmate’s interruption. 

“I shouldn’t… I don’t think it’s a big deal—“   
“Shut up, Nick. We know you’ve been fucking. All night, sideways, Satan knows what.”

My arms folded across my chest. I kept a straight face when all these accusations were hurled in my direction. But inside, I was quaking in fear, knowing the consequences of my master’s desires. 

“I was simply following his orders,” I felt my breath hitched. “That’s… that’s all.” My gaze fell from the ground, not wanting my eyes to betray the inner mechanisms of my mind and heart. I was fucked—literally and figuratively. 

The silence in the study thickened as time passed by. To break the ice, Deacon huffed once again and spoke up. “What are your intentions?” I scoffed and shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Are you a vampire hunter?”   
“What?! No.”  
“Plotting with a vampire hunter?”  
“Of course not!”  
“An ugly disgusting hag? A heartless succubus?”  
“No!” 

“What do you want from him, then?” Vladislav broke Deacon’s inquisition that went nowhere. I lifted my gaze from the creaky floorboards and stared at Vlad. His gaze, his piercing gaze containing the darkest and lightest of earth’s greenery, bore into me demanding a response. 

It was volatile—entrancing. Without instructing me to tell the truth, my dry mouth spoke. The truth spilled out of me with little to no restraint. No matter how much I wanted to keep it to myself. 

“I want him to serve him. To rise with him when the night falls. To be the reason for his sheepish smile.” 

A few moments passed before my truths were mine again. I sat there, flabbergasted over what had just happened. They stood there, eyes widened, unsure of what to say. I didn’t know what to do after hearing myself either. 

Nick broke into laughter, unmocking yet jovial. “Oh shit, they’re dating!” 

Vladislav, Deacon, and I shared the same shock upon this realization. Halting the thought for it to not go any further, I waved my hands so they can dismiss the thought. “Wait, that’s not what I—“

It was interrupted with Deacon rushing over to me and shaking my shoulders. “Ahh, finally finally!” He engulfed me into a bear hug, raising me from where I sat. “I’m so fucking tired of Katherine this, Katherine that. Finally, it’s fucking over.” 

My breath was constricted from his grasp. Out of nowhere, his not-so-bad guy bad guy façade went out the window. I gasped for breath as I patted his head. It’s an acknowledgment of his affection. At the same time, a sign that my face was going blue. 

“Put her down. Don’t kill Viago’s lover,” Vladislav instructed. I have dropped mid-air before I knew it, landing flat on my ass. Deacon muttered his sorrys as he stepped back. His true soft wholesome self recoiled back to his pseudo-badass state. 

I winced from the pain of the impact. Shaking it off, I propped my hand on the surface and tried to raise myself up. Good thing Vladislav was courteous enough to lend me a hand. 

His stoic nature was replaced with an unnatural softness. Taking his hand, he rose me from where I landed. “Thanks,” I muttered. He observed me for a moment as I collected myself. With a sigh, he finally said his piece. 

“Just be careful with Viago,” he said with sincerity. “He means… a lot to us.” 

The clock stroke nine. It was time for him to awaken. 

Leaving the study shaken, I couldn’t bear to tell them it wasn’t love. Only lust and desire. Needs being met by the two of us. Love? I never felt love. I never deserved love nor entertained it. I was a young 20something theatre trash who gone too far, what the fuck do I know about love?

I want him to serve him. To rise with him when the night falls. To be the reason for his sheepish smile.

My own words haunted me as I walked into my master’s chambers. Was it really my truth? Or a Freudian slip forced out of me? I wasn’t exactly sure. It frightened the hell out of me though. 

“Viago,” I gently knocked on the door before letting myself in. I planned to stand by as he rose from his slumber. Preferably, I wanted to greet him with a warm smile and a good quick fuck. But there was no need. 

He stood there in his room as if he waited for me. With his sheepish grin, he called me. I feigned a smile and did what I was told. 

I cautiously approached, uncertain why he woke up early. “How long have you been awake?” I asked as I tucked away my anxieties. He didn’t answer and merely parted my stray hair away from my face. 

“How long was the flat meeting without me?”

The corners of my mouth drooped at his question. I didn’t plan to have an inquisition from both him and his flatmates. But I guess, God has his favorites and it wasn’t me that night. 

“Look Viago, they didn’t what me to wake y—“  
“May I ask what was it about?”

His tone was still sickly sweet, even if the pangs of betrayal were present. His warm demeanor was there to comfort me through these hard questions. But I knew well enough it tried its hardest to coil the rage underneath. 

I stood there motionless as he waited for my response. I tried my hardest to form a string of words, utter any syllable that would come to mind, but no avail. My muscles were tense and my mouth grew dry. 

A snitch is not a word you’d associate with me. I was a woman of my word through and through. That being said, I am also loyal to those I chose to be loyal to. Too bad these moral codes of mine often clash and fuck me over more than it should. 

Viago grew impatient with my answer’s unnecessary delays. One pull of my arm sent our faces inches away from each other. He wanted answers I had, answers I wasn’t willing to give so easily. 

I knew his gaze. I saw it earlier from Vladislav. Once again, I recoiled to a state of helplessness. It’s a state where my truths were others and my agency to tell them by my volition faltered. 

“I.. I…” I began to trail off, losing control over the words flowing out of my mouth. The piercing gaze he held stayed for a moment. Then in a flash, it dimmed. 

His grasps on my arm loosened. But his gaze didn’t revert to its softness. With mouth agape, he became horrified at what he almost did. I stood there horrified of what he was capable of. 

“Fräulein… Desiree,” he stammered. Unsure of what to do, he engulfed me into his embrace and didn’t press on any further. He no longer had body heat to share. But his shame radiated nonetheless. 

All of this was too much. Usually, I can withstand anything yet this primal fear in me. This all-knowing fear within me signaled me to flee. 

Shaken by everything I’ve experienced that night, I clasped away from his embrace and ran towards the door. He called for my attention but I didn’t beckon. No, not this time. 

My anxieties and inner demons signaled I’ve gone too far. All of this time, I thought I had agency over what I wanted from this. But my staggering breaths betray this. 

What if I fail him? What if I’m not ready? What are the consequences of his betrayal? What is the price of these betrayals over my heart?

By all means, Viago’s nature betrays him. It starts with his sheepish smile and ends with his empathic nature. He is still, however, a powerful being just like everyone else in this house except for me. 

There is rage underneath him. He is capable of lashing out, of intense emotions, possibly bottled up for centuries. There are parts of his nature he could not control. And that night, I saw a glimpse of it before me—it was beautiful.

Somewhere, I read once that whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.

And I do quiver before it. I quiver before him. Very much so that it frightens me to my core. It frightens whatever care I had for this humanity that I hold. 

Am I even capable of handling such terror? I don’t know if I am.


	6. Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humanity leaves the best of us, but regret stays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I’m back. Unsure if anyone wanted this series to continue. I don’t give a shit. You’re getting it.

Humanity leaves the best of us, but regret stays. 

That’s the first lesson that stuck with me after my immortality’s first few decades. Nick has only been immortal for a few years, but he knows this all too well. Deacon is filled with it yet he’ll never admit it. And of course, we know Vladislav’s regrets a de facto coven biblically. 

I, too, am filled with them. I’m afraid it’s what my smile fails to hide. 

I’m quite familiar with it. Tracing it back to my previous aristocratic lifestyle to my short-lived affair with Katherine, regret followed me even in the afterlife. It’s my forever constant. 

And when Desiree bolted my quarters, unable to return for two weeks now, that’s when I saw regret once again. Not from my murky earthen eyes—but hers. 

My presence didn’t grace the rest of the house for days. In my room, I awaken, I ponder, then I slumber. It was a cycle that’s only broken when Vladislav, Deacon, Nick or Stu checks up on me. Even Petyr tried but not as much as the others. Uncharacteristically, I kept mum and shut them off. 

I hadn’t been myself ever since she left. And to be honest, I hadn’t been myself since I tried hypnotizing her. 

“Now, why would you do that?” Vladislav quipped, calm yet slightly mortified. “That’s unlike you.” 

The co-inhabitants of this house eventually got fed up with my wallowing. So in an effort to cheer me up, they try to express interests in my quaint hobbies. Vladislav was the first one to give it a shot. He said he wanted a new pot for his dungeon.

“But why?”  
“To brighten up the place.”

What a crock of shit. 

I poured my frustrations by throwing the lump of clay I held. Of course, I knew it was unlike me. It’s all I’ve thought of since she walked out the door. Rage hasn’t been a friend of mine. If anything, I bury it deep, deep inside of me with a strong lock and multiple chains, never to come out unless necessary. 

Pushing the pedal with my foot, I began to mold. I pretended to ignore his question. The more I ignored, the more his query echoed in my head. Why? Why? Why? 

With a deep breath, I stopped moving. We watched the clay fell flat before us with the pottery wheel slowly losing its axis. “I don’t like being lied to,” I muttered my answer. “That’s all.” 

Vladislav kept mum after that. After a rather uncomfortable lull between us, I pulled myself together and did his assigned Sisyphean task. 

Deacon was the second one to try. He badgered on with helping him with his chores from the chore wheel. “I’ve been picking up your chores too,” he huffed. “It’s the least you can do since you designed that bullshit.” 

He tried to get me riled up. Or at least, try to get me to feel anything apart from melancholy. But I just gave him a faint smile and went on doing mundane tasks around the house. 

It was filled with complaints, stories from his attempted sexcapades, and more complaints. I nodded and said nothing all throughout. To be quite honest, I’m just happy there was someone to fill the silence. 

But that ended with the inevitable question. “So… how did you fuck up losing your little human plaything?” 

My knuckles whitened with my tight grip on the mop handle. Refusing to look up, I simply dropped the mop and walked off before I do something I’ll regret. “What? I’m just asking a fucking question!” 

I kept walking and walking. Steadying my breathing with every step. And then, he hit me with another verbal assault. “Pfft, that’s right give up,” he sneered. “Make another Katherine out of her, why don’t you?”

White hot rage seeped into my body. I heard him chanting to come get him and to give him my all. The next thing I knew, I’m already gripping him by the collar, tossing him across the hallway. He kept encouraging me to go on. Land a punch or two. 

Going in his direction, I was ready. Our hisses echoed in the halls. I was ready to beat him to a pulp, to release everything out, to finally lift this weight of my fucking chest. But when I glowered over him with a balled up fist ready to swing, it dawned on me. 

It was senseless violence. No punch or draw of blood would bring her back. 

I loosened my grip and let him drop. He didn’t press me on after that. And for that, I’m thankful he backed down when I did. 

Grasping at order, even the false sense of it, gave me purpose. It’s no secret between the four of us. That’s why we have a chore wheel, why I hide behind hobbies and why I decide to keep volatile emotions at bay. Order is what I can control when the rest of our immortal lives are ever so chaotic. 

Maybe that’s why I did what I did to her. Still, driving her off was unforgivable. As much as I wanted her back, back to the way things were, I wouldn’t be surprised if she never comes back. It pangs my heart but her happiness and safety are my priorities. 

Her absence drove me to old habits I had with Katherine. I wasn’t a fan of it, but I longed for her presence near me. 

Lately, I’ve been doing things I’m not proud of. Watching her from afar and observing her life outside of me was one of those things. Going as a bat or as a sentient fog I saw her live life in classes and in her circle of friends. She was an exquisite dancer (way better than Deacon), her singing prowess has melted my heart more than once, and her genuine laughter amongst peers made her and others around her bloom. 

I try not to follow her often. Yet, it was nice to see who she was outside of our flat. 

“You’re not working at your part-time job anymore? Your assistant gig?” 

One of her friends asked as they sat in a local diner’s booth. Borrowing Stu’s clothes, I decided to blend in one night; plaid polo, a muted undershirt and jeans. I was never a fan of jeans. I sat behind them, nursing an order of fries I wouldn’t even eat, staring at a still glass of cola I didn’t care for. 

“I decided to take a break for a while,” Desiree sighed. “Requirements and what not.” I was unsure if she made an excuse or if she planned to come back to us, to me. However, it was enough to make my cold heart sing. It was enough to give me hope. 

Her friend let out a polite laugh. “Well, at least you got your life back again.” Desiree returned the favor and shared a hearty chuckle with her. Somehow, that comment brought back that pang on my chest. Her life back, the phrase echoed in my head.

Not wanting to overstay my unwelcome, I got out any loose change from my pocket and made my exit. I walked off into the night with the plans to go home. But once the glass door’s chimes made a sound, I guess I blew my cover right there and then. 

We exchanged the briefest of glances. Instead of staying put with her mortal friend, she got up and ran after me. 

I wanted to disappear to the night, to leave her alone for good. Confrontation was never one of my strongest suits. If I could avoid it and cower on my lonesome, I would. But as I’ve learned for centuries—life was never a fan of my wants and needs. 

“Mast—Viago,” she called out to me once she got a grip of my arm. With no point in avoiding her, I turned around and gave her a sheepish smile. “Oh hello,” I greeted her with a false sunny disposition. 

“What… what are you doing here?”   
“I’m just… around. Eating fries.” 

“You can’t eat fries,” she giggle snorted. I always found that habit of hers endearing. Scratching the back of my neck, I shrugged. “I can always pretend.” 

We stared at each other for a while. Both of us unsure where we wanted the conversation to go. Our eyes filled with longing, yet our mouths ran dry. Both gazes had a tinge of regret. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go bac—“  
“Fräulein, I don’t want to keep you.”

Clasping both of her hands, I kept them close to my chest. My painful smile unwavering. “Please don’t apologize,” I begged her. “I’m at fault. I… I demanded too much of you.”

She let out a dry chuckle. “Viago, I’m your familiar. Demanding too much of me is in my job description.” My smile drooped as my gaze fell with it. How can I tell her that’s untrue? How can I tell her I never saw her as one?

“I got spooked. That’s all,” she briefly explained her absence. “I..I’ll come back. I can—“ I stopped her with a firm grip on her hands. “You know, I think you have a great life. It’s wunderbar.” Her brows furrowed at my observation. “I don’t… have the right.. to take this all away from you.” 

I slowly let go of her, finally having a sense of clarity after two murky weeks. “You can visit, if you’d like,” I nodded, reassuring her that she’s always welcome in our abode. “But let’s—“ I tried to choose my words carefully. “—let’s stop, yes?” 

I felt her heartbreak as did mine. But really, it’s for the best. It’s for her best interests. “Your only obligations are to yourself. Not me.” It was the last reminder I told her. She opened her mouth for what I assumed was a fiery rebuttal. Luckily, her friend came up behind her to call her attention. 

Once Desiree turned around to face me again, I was already gone. 

A week has passed after that. Slowly, the flat adjusted with her absence. Viago, Deacon and Nick were empathetic enough to not bring her name up in conversations. We all pretended she never happened. And in my mind, it was for the best. 

Her scent in my room still lingered. But quite frankly, that might be a delusion of mine. It will eventually leave me like everything I held on too close did. I didn’t mind at that point. I merely accepted it. 

Then, we heard a knock in the dead of night. The inhabitants of our flat looked at one another. Everyone was present: Viago, Deacon, Nick and Stu. Petyr was too old to wander off. So we all wondered, who else could it be?

I opened the door, and there she was. 

I wanted to greet her with such warmth. So of course, I expected the same warmth back. However, I failed to remember, this is Desiree we were talking about. 

She hurled her overnight bag in my direction. The flat watched her as she marched to my quarters. With a slam on my door, the rest of us stared at one another. 

“Pfft,” Deacon sneered and pointed his thumb at me. “Somebody’s fucked.”


End file.
